


Milk Is Stored In The Balls

by WhatsNewPussycat



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Breastfeeding, Dehumanization, Feminization, Hucow, Hybrids, M/M, Male Lactation, Milking, Prostate Milking, Specifically pecs being referred to as tits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25625518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatsNewPussycat/pseuds/WhatsNewPussycat
Summary: Save a cow, milk a cowboy
Relationships: OMC/OMC
Comments: 4
Kudos: 250





	Milk Is Stored In The Balls

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by [Milk Of Human Kindness](https://archiveofourown.org/series/952683) by Always_Bottom_Derek

When it came to hucows, females were more popular. It made sense: they had more breast tissue which meant more room to store milk. But really, the appeal was breeding them. Stick your cock in a cow, get it pregnant, then sell the calf for a quick buck. Female cows were sold to be milked and bred while male cows were sold to be laborers. 

Unfortunately, this meant people were more interested in building a harem of cows than breeding cows with delicious milk. The quality of milk decreased over the years and hucows became housepets as common as cats and dogs.

Benedict was not interested in a cheap, low quality hucow like all his friends had. Breeding them was fun but most of the time the milk was worse than cow’s milk. When Benedict was a child, hucows were rare and their milk was delicious. He would beg his mother to skip the regular cow’s dairy section and buy from the more expensive hucow section. 

But as he got older, the taste got worse. At first he thought it was just a part of growing up, then one day he was at a party where they had milk that tasted like his childhood. He asked the party’s organizer where she got the milk from, but her lips were sealed.

"If I tell you, then my parties won't be special anymore.” she said pouting and playing with Benedict’s tie. Benedict laughed as he poured her another glass of wine. 

“I promise, I only want to know for personal reasons. I won’t steal your thunder,” he whispered into her ear, making her giggle. After enough glasses of wine and even more words of flattery he ushered her into a private corner where he managed to coax out the name of the milk supplier.

A few days later, Benedict drove to a small rural town about two hours out. The small amount of research he did revealed that this town was known for having exceptionally good milk and rarely selling their male cows, despite readily selling the female ones.

When he arrived, he was pleased to see that compared to the farmers selling produce, honeys, and jams, there was an overwhelming number of stalls selling dairy products. There were even stalls that only had milk on display, but none were showing off hucows. Each stall only had enough room for one or two cows in the back, behind a curtain. No one was showing off a collection, a culture Benedict wasn't used to.

When Benedict asked for a fresh sample, the farmer would go behind a curtain for a few minutes then bring out a paper cup overflowing with milk. They seemed annoyed that he wanted samples straight from the source rather than one they had on hand, which Benedict didn't understand. He had milked the breasts of hucows before; it wasn't hard to get their milk to spray directly into a cup without it overflowing. It was also strange that when he tried to ask any questions about cup size or estrogen levels the farmers’ faces would close off. They all wanted him to buy milk or fuck off. It was annoying, but every sample of milk he tried was more delicious than anything he drank in the past ten years.

Eventually he came across a smaller stall that was poorly put together. The person running the stall was a bored 20 something year old, about 30 years younger than his peers. He was sitting on a stool, looking down at a magazine with a busty blonde on the cover when Benedict greeted him.

"Shit!" the stall owner yelled, dropping his magazine. "Fuck. What?" He glared at Benedict like he couldn't believe he was being bothered to do his job. There were five glass bottles of milk and a half empty sample bottle on the counter, but nothing else.

The milk looked disgusting. It was lumpy and tinged yellow, watery at the top and too thick at the bottom. "I'd like a fresh sample, straight from the source." 

The stall owner rolled his eyes. "There’s an open bottle right there. Pour one yourself," he said, bending down to pick up his magazine. Like most hucow milk stalls, there was a dark purple curtain covering the back half of the stall, but it wasn't all the way to the floor. Benedict could see a shadow.

"If I decide to buy your milk, I’ll be placing a special order. I like milk fresh." Underneath the curtain, the shadow moved. "This sample... doesn’t look fresh enough." Benedict thought he heard a soft whine.

The stall owner groaned, dropping his magazine on the counter. "Look, I'm not that invested in this business. If you don't like my milk, go somewhere else. I'm not milking that cow right now; I don't have any equipment with me." 

"I could milk it myself, if you wouldn't mind. I've had plenty of experience with hucows before." The stall owner laughed.

"Yeah, I'm sure you have pal, but trust me, you don't wanna touch this one." There was another shift behind the curtain and an obviously pained moo. Benedict's palms were sweating.

"I promise, I can take it. Just give me a cup and I'll be finished milking in a few minutes." The stall owner looked him up and down. He snorted then handed Benedict a small paper cup.

“If you say so.” He unlocked the stall door from where he was sitting, allowing the left part of the counter to fall down. Benedict walked into the stall, ignoring the man as he went behind the curtain. "Don't say I didn't warn you," the stall owner said, then he went back to looking at his magazine. Benedict watched him for a moment then went behind the curtain. 

The area behind the stall was empty, just a dirt floor, more purple curtains, and the wooden poles that held them up. Benedict walked into the middle of the room and as he started to turn, a body slammed into him from behind. Benedict fell flat on his face and was pinned down. There were legs clamped around his thighs and a broad chest pressed against his back.

"Get off!" he hissed, kicking his legs, In response, he heard the pained mooing of a hucow. He stopped struggling and realized he could feel soft breasts pressing against his back. His arms were free, so he used them to push himself up, then rolled over so he was covering the other person with his body. He looked down and saw small horns peeking out from the dark curls. It’s eyes were big, brown, and full of tears.

"Moooo..." it cried, pushing its leaking tits up at Benedict.

Benedict sighed and pushed himself off the cow, rolling to sit next to it. He pulled it into his lap. "Shhhh. Shhhh..." Benedict whispered, threading one hand through the hucow's hair. It was crying and butting it's head against his chest while Benedict cooed softly to calm it down.

It pouted and stuck its tits out, which were bigger than most human women’s, but not as big as a hucow’s tits should have been. Not to mention, they were shaped more like pecs than tits, the round and bloated curve resting high on its chest rather than sagging. 

Benedict took a hand from the cow’s hair to cup its breast. The cow groaned loudly, sounding pained, so Benedict took his hand away. The cow looked at him, frowning even more and puffed its chest out, asking for Benedict's touch. Its tits were clearly swollen, milk pebbling out of its hard nipples.

Gently, Benedict pressed his hand against one tit and pressed down slowly, making the cow cry out again. Then he leaned down and licked its nipple. As he bent his head down he noticed a white, milky cock standing at attention. Ah, now Benedict understood.

He took a nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, savoring the milk. It was sweet, like a melon. It made his mouth water, so he started sucking gently. It didn’t work, the milk didn’t come out. The cow mooed and curled his fingers in his hair, tugging at it, trying to make him help. Benedict sucked harder and harder, ignoring how pained the cow sounded, until finally his mouth flooded with milk. 

Benedict gulped down only a few mouthfuls and it was empty. Before he could wonder how the tit was empty so quickly, the cow pulled him over to the other tit where Benedict repeated the process. As he sucked, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the soft pets from the cow. He let his hands wander along the cow’s chest, then stomach, then hip, until his hand came across that wet and leaking cock. He was surprised by how thick it was. It wasn’t precum, for sure, but it wasn’t quite the consistency of cum. It dripped like milk.

When the other tit ran out even more quickly, gears started turning in Benedict’s head. While the milk from its breasts was delicious, it didn’t taste as good as the milk from the party. There were rumors the reason male hucows weren't very popular was because the bulk of their milk came from their cocks.

Despite the cup of warm breast milk filling his stomach, Benedict wasn’t satisfied. He needed the real deal. He pushed the cow off of his lap and arranged it so it was on all fours. At first, it mooed and complained until it realized what Benedict was doing. Then it started pushing its ass in Benedict's face, ignoring the fact that the man was trying to put his folded up suit jacket under the cows knees. Benedict chuckled as he pushed up his shirt sleeves.

Benedict was sure the cup was too small to take all the milk this cow had to offer, but he set it up anyway. Then he went to examine the cow’s genitals.

Its balls were too large and swollen for its sack, which was stretched tight. Its hole was wet and winking, ready to be milked. Its poor cock was purple at the tip and soaked in its own sticky milk. Even though it wasn't the proper way to milk a male, Benedict couldn't help but give the cock a few strokes, making the cow keen and its hole flutter.

With his hand slick from the cow's cock milk, he easily slipped in two fingers. The cow sighed as he pushed his two thick fingers as deep as possible.. He pulled his fingers out and the cow followed, trying to keep him inside, so Benedict obliged and thrust his way back in.

As he fingered the cow, he pressed and prodded the inside of its hole, in search of its prostate. It wasn't hard to find the swollen and spongy spot. It was protruding, full of milk and begging for his touch. Just the gentle tap of his fingers against it had the cow bucking its hips and spurting watery milk from its cock.

Benedict went slowly at first, just tapping the spot while stroking the cow's pale flank. There was a spotted black and white tail on his lower back, whipping around wildly, occasionally hitting Benedict's hand, so he grabbed the tail and tugged. The cow mooed even louder than before and milk started shooting from it's cock in an unbroken stream. Benedict took the opportunity to press down hard on the prostate, forcing the milk out even faster. The poor cow was fucking itself even harder on Benedicts fingers, alternating between trying to get Benedict to press down harder and wanting to escape the unrelenting pressure. 

Rather than bully the already stressed cow, Benedict tried to give it what it wanted. He pulled his fingers out then thrust them back in, curling and uncurling them, pressing down then letting up, milking the cow's prostate. The sweet smell of milk was almost overwhelming.

Then he added a third finger stretching out the cow’s hole. There was a final strong spurt of milk all over the floor, but then it started slowing down and turning more yellow. The milk that had rotted in the bottom of the cow’s balls.

He fucked the cow’s hole a little more lazily while his other hand squeezed its plump balls gently. The cow’s legs started shaking as he pressed the prostate and squished its balls at the same time. More of the sloppy rotten milk came out, but rather than smelling disgusting, it was more like overly ripe fruit. Soft and bruised, but still edible. Too sweet and too mushy, the curdled milk dripped into the full cup of milk, displacing the milk and making more run over the edges.

While he fucked the last of the milk out of the cow, he picked up the paper cup and took a sip. The cock milk was thicker than the breast milk and almost opalescent in color. The smell was like regular milk with honey. Benedict took a sip and it tasted more like melted ice cream than milk. Thick, creamy, sweet. It also woke him up, like he just drank a shot of espresso.

Now that the cow had been milked, it was much more docile. It stood up easily when he pulled it and it allowed him to wrap it up in his jacket, which was wet with its milk. Benedict looked around the room for a leash and found it on the floor, attached to a stick that probably used to be embedded in the ground. The collar part was torn in half.

Benedict picked up the pieces and looked at the cow who shyly looked away. It was probably only desperation that had made it so aggressive, but Benedict made sure to remember that it was capable of overpowering him for a short time.

Buying the cow was surprisingly easy. Once he came out from behind the curtains, coatless and arms covered in milk, the stall owner laughed and asked if Benedict wanted to just take the cow of his hands. They decided on a price, more expensive than the cow was probably actually worth, but not enough to break the bank. Benedict also asked to buy the stall owner's and he agreed to ship it to Benedict’s address.

Benedict walked back to his car, holding hands with his new hucow the whole way there. He got a few stares, but people mostly minded their own business. A few farmers selling milk nodded at him in approval. 

When they got to his car, Benedict put the cow in the back where he could curl up and rest in the back seat. He drove home, feeling the happiest he had since he was a child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Setting up his house to accomodate his new business venture was hard. It was two stories and a basement. At first he planned to turn his spare basement into the cow's bedroom and milking room, but the cow had no desire to stay in the sparsely furnished basement alone.

The cow, whom Benedict named Elias, spent most nights in Benedict's room. He slept at the foot of the bed, in a large basket filled with pillows. If Elias behaved well, he would sometimes be allowed in his master’s bed.

The basement didn't manage as a milking room either. Benedict had a very tight schedule. He woke up at 6am, made himself coffee and toast, enjoyed his breakfast while reading a newspaper, then went off to work. Having a cow changed his schedule. 

Pained mooing would wake him up at 5 am. Once he opened his eyes, he would see Elias’s swollen tits demanding his mouth. Unlike the milk from the cow's real udder, the milk from his tits was thin and mild. More like a real cow's milk, but sweeter, with an aftertaste of honeydew. He drank from his cow until his stomach was bloated and didn’t bother with coffee. It was easier for Benedict to latch onto a nipple and suck until each tit was empty rather than set up the milking equipment each morning.

After licking the cow udders clean, Benedict would find that his cock was hard. Elias would up at him shyly and rub Benedict's cock with the back of his hand, but since it wasn't for the sake of breeding or milking, Benedict felt it would be inappropriate to engage in sexual activity with the animal. Instead, Benedict would push Elias off and head to the shower where he would only need to stroke his cock two or three times before he came. After his shower, it would be almost 6:30, so Elias would hurriedly get dressed and rush out the door.

When Benedict got home, Elias immediately pounced on him, his cock hard and leaking. The cow would have tears in its eyes and rub its face on Benedicts shirt. Benedict would sigh and push the cow off, setting up the milking equipment on the kitchen table. Elias would scramble up the table in excitement and wiggle his fat ass in his Benedict’s face, making his wet cock flap around. It was very very cute. 

Benedict would put the milk pump on Elias’s cock and attach it to a bottle. Once everything was secure, he would put his fingers in Elias’s mouth, so the cow could slick them up. The cow would suck on his fingers and rub his tongue all over them, drooling like they were delicious. 

He would press the tips of his middle and ring fingers against Elias’s flutter hole, laughing when the cow tried to thrust back against them, frustrated. Then he'd slowly press his fingers deeper, thrusting in and out, until the cow was moving his hips with the same rhythm. He would finger the cow until the mooing turned from pleasure to pain. That was when it was warmed up enough to milk. 

He pressed down on the cow's prostate and ignored how hard his cock was while milk was sucked down into a jar from which he would pour milk for his dinner guests. At dinner, they would all complement the flavor of the milk and ask where he got it, but Benedict never told anyone about his cow. He didn’t like sharing.


End file.
